The Memory Game
by darkedensaint
Summary: Voldemort with amnesia, the order reduced to five members... And an army of death eaters refusing to surrender. Dark,semiIndependent,Powerfull Harry. AU Werevamp in later chapters. NO SLASH. Character death.


Disclaimer: You know the drill; anything you recognize is Rowling's. Do you honestly think I'd be writing FanFiction if it were mine?

_**A/N**__**: If you have any stupid critics or flames, you know where to shove them, anything else just send it.**_

_**Chapter #1: End of an Era**_

In a dark alley off Privet Drive, a lone man, as any local would disdainfully remember, looked remarkably unkempt; long, matted hair half-hid his bloodshot eyes, and the rest of his face seemed to be caked with at least a few years' worth of filth. The label of his weather-stained cloak identified him as Mundungus Flecher, a fact he would fervently deny when asked by an officer of the law.

The man walked slowly out of the side alley and down a row of big, square houses. Any of the homes in the street could be discerned from the next in row only by virtue of its owner and the small, bronze number next to its up to number 4, he knocked thrice, and was promptly presented with the horse-like visage of Mrs. Petunia Dursley.

"Did you come to get the Freak?" She enquired eagerly "BOY! Get down, there's one of your kind here!" she shrieked, while keeping the door half shut to prevent this exceedingly filthy specimen from defiling the house she had subjected to her fanatical cleaning for the last 2 decades.

Less than half a minute later, Harry replaced his aunt in the doorway.

"Dung" he said "What's the Order say?"

-"' Appy birthday" was Mundungus' simple answer, as he produced a small, black box, about 3inches long 2 wide, from one of his pockets "Greetings from the Order"

-"Er... thanks. Want to come in?" Asked Harry, enjoying the horrified expression that formed on his aunt's face.

-"Cant 'Arry, Moody's waitin' fer me an' 'es got 'imself a bleedin' bad temper lately" He excused himself, and with a small 'pop', he was gone.

Closing the door, Harry quietly climbed back up the stairs to his small room. Taking a last look around, he noticed everything was still as it had been 6 years before, the broken toys on the shelves and littering the room, the small desk, with the exception of his trunk and Hedwig's case, nothing had changed. The hands of his bedside clock were pointed rigidly at 9. In three more hours, he would be of legal age. Death Eaters would storm Privet Drive as soon as the wards came down. The took a moment to look at the unassuming box in his hand. He opened it. Inside was a common London road map, a letter addressed to him, and two small keys, one of them bearing an insignia he vaguely recognized as belonging to a motor company. He opened the letter, and immediately recognized Dumbledore's familiar, elegant handwriting.

_Dear Harry,_

_As no doubt you are aware, as of tomorrow you will be a legal adult in our world, and Privet Drive will no longer be safe. You must leave today. There is a vehicle waiting for you in the park. Sirius will catch up._

_I am, most sincerely, yours._

_Albus Dumbledore_

_P.D.: Your luggage will get here on its own._

Harry grinned. This time he wouldn't have to come back, he would never see his farm-like family again, a fact that didn't bother him at all. Practically bouncing down the stairs, he ripped open the front door and stalked into the night, unnoticed except by a lone cat. The cat followed him from a distance all the way to the park, a fact the young man either did not notice or did not care about. When he got to the park, he walked up to the swings and detached a black BMW 1200 cc. Jamming his recently acquired key into the ignition, he rode off to meet his godfather.

At 9:30 in the afternoon, Minerva McGonagall's patronus relayed its message to one Albus Dumbledore.

"He's gone." Was the only thing that came out of the silvery feline before it dissipated. The old man in question looked pleased with the news. Next to him, a younger, shaggier man stood up to leave the room. By the way he was dressed – dark jeans and stout iron-clad boots – no wizard would look twice at him. Fishing the key out of his jeans' pocket, he climbed onto his big, old motorbike, gunned the engine and rode out.

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The Inner Circle, the crème de la crème of Voldemort's army was gathered around his throne when the Dark Lord apparated in. He set himself down on his throne while his Death Eaters threw themselves to their knees, either in fear or reverence, and crawled to kiss the hem of his robes. Only after they had all had their turn, the Dark Lord spoke.

"Tonight is the night" he hissed softly, "my ritual shall be complete and I will have power surpassing any alive. Now, do you have it, Lucius?"

"Yes my Lord" the elder Malfoy said sycophantically as he pulled a small dark sphere. The sphere, it seemed, absorbed the moonlight as it vainly tried to pierce its depths.

"As the brighter among you might have noted, this" He held up the sphere "is a ritual focus, the last piece in my plan"

The elder Death Eaters cheered for their master. When the cheering subsided, Voldemort continued.

"And now, your task. You will lead my followers in a raid. You may wreak havoc in Surrey."

The Death Eaters, laughing with glee, left. When they were gone, the Dark Lord carefully stowed the orb in his pocket an apparated away.

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With a soft "pop" Lord Voldemort apparated into his meeting. As he apparated in, he was greeted by a wave of startled screams. He scowled, grumbling something about useless little cowards. Nevertheless, he addressed his new recruits. Almost miraculously, as soon as he started talking, the group of aforementioned cowards shut up.

"Purebloods" he hissed "tonight will mark your life. It has long been said that my army is decaying, rotting away with age. I will prove them you, my new followers, powerful and skilled, shall stand by my side while I , two hours from now, I start the ritual that will mark you as my most respected. The Death Guard".

All the assembled losers, ignorant of their own looming deaths, cheered like maniacs for the triumph of their Dark Lord .The sounds of apparition filled the air. A moment later, the room was empty once more.

And the Dark Lord laughed at the stupidity of his new recruits.

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Five minutes later, godfather and -son were standing in the hall at Nr. 12, Grimmauld Place. The house seemed to have grown more dreary and depressing than the last time he'd been there.

"What's happened?" asked Harry quietly as they crossed the hall, wary of waking the portrait that still lurked there. Sirius paused a moment, grimacing, before saying anything. "Voldemort", he then replied simply. "It's like the first time again, everybody's become as paranoid as Moody lately, no-one knows who to trust anymore. People go missing every day, some come back, some don't. The missing one's, well, there's no knowing which of them are still alive and which of them have screamed, confessed and died in some Death Eater's basement.

"More specifically?"

"Vance, we know, is dead we found her body in the Thames a week back. Diggle nearly is, he managed to blow up half an interrogation chamber. Accidental magic, apparently. The Ministry got word of it, sent some aurors to check it out. Kingsley found him and got him out. He was more dead than alive, and he still doesn't know how he did it..."

"What about the Order? What have they been doing?", interrupted Harry.

"Well, the basement here has seen its fair share of Death Eaters, all returned to their master with additional orifices. We also cleaned up Crabbe and Yaxley, literally. They tried to chill Tonks, Moony lost it and splattered them all over the place..."

"How did he mess them up so badly?"

"He forced himself into a partial transformation." The ex-convict responded darkly. "on the bright side, it seems the magical underground, the crooks and such, are on our side now. A few nights ago we found a marked guy in Knockturn, stone cold, with a hole right between the eyes. We're guessing someone offed him with a Perforation Jinx."

"Any ideas as to who did it ?"

"Nope, probably a pro though. I'm pretty sure nobody in the Order is that skilled. He had a hole Perfectly between his eyes, and a matching one on the back of his head."

Harry's eye widened slightly. "By the way, Padfoot, is ol' mummy Black still on her wall?"

"Dear mummy is still on her spot." Answered Sirius, bobbing his head up and down his head frantically. " Why would anyone want to remove her, she's so sweet", he added, in the tones of a five-year-old, truly convinced of the fact that his grandmother is the good fairy and never going to die.

Both men walked into the dining room and got comfortable, with a few minutes to spare before the meeting.

"So... what do you think it'll be?"

"Snape's report" Said Sirius, boredom dripping off him. "We might as well ask Celestina Warbeck for all the information we get off him, but Dumbledore just thanks him and praises him as a hero."

"What's he say?"

"Voldy's planning a ritual, but he doesn't know when . Our incredibly heroic spy says he'll kill a couple of trainees to increase his power."

"So we have to blow the ritual. What else ?"

Sirius grinned. "Good part is, he'll have to destroy his horcruxes to reintegrate his soul, as he obviously doesn't want to split his new power in 7."

"So he'll be vulnerable. What is the bad part?" Asked Harry cynically.

"If he completes the ritual, he'll have enough power to sink the country", he grimaced. "how have you been doing?"

"You know the drill, the dipshit muggle that calls himself my uncle has been rambling on all summer about freaks and how they should be exterminated as fast and thoroughly as possible. The bloody bastard's been nagging me about blowing my brains out the whole fucking summer."

"I already gave you my condolences on the people you live with."

As Sirius opened his mouth to engage in a detailed and no doubt impolite description of one Vernon Dursley, the fireplace flared green and a hook-nosed man came out, nearly stumbling over his own feet in his haste. Without bothering to wipe the sooth off his robes, he ran over to Moody.

"Riddle Manor"

Not a minute later, the entire Order of the Phoenix, minus Moody and Snape, apparated away to battle, lead by the newly arrived Albus Dumbledore. Snape later apparated to the raid in Surrey, unaware of his passenger.

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Lord Voldemort walked toward the garden of the once-great Riddle Manor with a decidedly un-evil spring in his step as he thought of Bellatrix LeStrange's talents. His inner circle meeting had gone well. Bella had been there, along with her no good husband and the drooling imbecile he had for a brother. Mc Nair, Goyle, Rosier... they had all been there, with the notable exception of Crabbe and Yaxley. Still, he couldn't shake the feeling something was wrong. Walking out into the garden, he noticed the Junior Death Eaters were already there. _/Good/_, he thought_/let us begin/_. Walking to the middle of the garden, he placed his four remaining horcruxes in the circle around him. Then, he took out the black orb and pushed it into the ground. With everything in place, he started his well-rehearsed chanting.

The assembled Death Eaters watched with mounting awe as magic swirled round their Lord. The runes activated, the horcruxes glowed the kind of sickly green they had come to associate with death, rather like Pavlov's dog associated bells with food.

By the time Voldemort had reabsorbed his horcruxes, they were drooling at the fiery display of power, which included all the sounds and flashy lights the wizarding world conditioned it's children to think of as power.

Then, breaking all plans for the night, a multitude of "pop's" and "crack's" signaled the appearance of the Order, and the noise of battle and spellfire drowned it all out.

For the first time since boarding the Express, Harry felt home. This was what he'd been training for. He had been born for strife. The thrill of the battle started pumping adrenalin through his veins, and he shot of his first curse.

"Reducto"

The spell hit a Death Eater in a place Dumbledore would never approve of. _/Then again/_, Harry thought, spotting the old man in question, dueling three Death Eaters simultaneously and using nothing more dangerous than Expeliarmus _/He probably doesn't approve of the spell either/_.

He dodged an incoming Avada Kedavra and Imperius-ed a relatively unharmed Death Eater. His newly acquired puppet promptly turned on his comrades. Covering themselves with a volley of Killing Curses and Reductos, the two of them retreated towards the centre of the graveyard. Harry never noticed the runes lighting up around him.

"Avada Kedavra".

The man responsible for casting the Curse took the same one in the middle of the chest only seconds later, while Harry calmly watched the beam of light hurtle at him. The Death Eater stared at him in fear when he did not move a muscle to save himself, instead throwing another volley of curses. At the last moment, he flicked his wand slightly to the left giving his "tame" Death Eater an order. Unable to refuse, the man stepped in front of it. As he crumpled to the ground, dead, his eyes lost the glassy look that came with the curse and refocused, staring lifelessly at the stars. Taking advantage of his opponent, in his shock, took Harry's identical curse to the head.

Still retreating, he got back to back with Sirius, Remus and Bill, covering them from the south, peppering the enemy with the kind of spells every mother tells her kids not to play with.

As he battled, he saw Tonks and Kingsley, fighting off three Death Eaters together, Mr. Weasly showing no remorse as he used an Entrail Expelling curse on someone, Mrs. Weasly blowing the head off a Death Eater pretending to sneak up on him. He watched as Fred and George were overpowered and portkeyed away, Mundungus and Diggle, standing shoulder to shoulder, twirling their wands, blasting Death Eaters out of the way. Dumbledore, his back to them, keeping Voldemort busy. Voldemort's wand coughing up the familiar green light. Dumbledore dodging, Bill dodging the spell that nearly killed him. Then, as the curse hit the ritual focus, the runes around the four of them flared to life, and the world turned bright white for a moment, before fading to black as they lost consciousness.

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Somewhere in Surrey, on his raid for the Lord, Severus Snape jeered at Bellatrix; she'd nearly been beaten by an old auror and a teacher.

"The Lord will be proud, Bella, four members of his inner circle, demolished by a pair of has-beens, three of them dead to top it off. I daresay he will be most pleased with you."

She nearly cried for her failure

The Death Eaters laughed, and Snape was about to laugh along with them when he felt his bond with Dumbledore break. Worrying, he pulled up his sleeve to return to his Lord, only to notice with both glee and dread, that the mark was slowly fading from his skin. As the marked buffoons laughed on he dove into an alley to avoid notice and apparated to St. Mungo's, in the hopes of finding a live Order member.(for strictly personal reasons of course)

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In the alley Bellatrix had just left, an old, more than slightly disfigured man stirred. He, too had felt his bond break. He picked up the body next to him and apparated away, Throwing a last glance at the bodies he left behind. He sneered. As he left the scene, he could be heard grumbling about overconfident rookies.

_**A/N:**_

Please read & review if you are so inclined. Feel free to ask questions and give suggestions.


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